


No Better Reason

by bazaar



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits, it's 10k of smut, pwp?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11670444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazaar/pseuds/bazaar
Summary: They were going to have to have a long talk about this whole "friends with benefits" thing....eventually.





	No Better Reason

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this happened.
> 
> It's smut. It's over ten thousand words of smut.

Asami loved the sound of a rattling headboard.

She had been under the assumption that this particular one was from Target because from afar and only from afar, it looked like it was pretty high quality. A matte finish with vertical slats of sturdy-looking dark wood that matched the bed frame.

Based on touch, however, she could tell how cheap it was.

Granted, she was hanging on to it for dear life, so its cost was the very least of her worries, but still.

She gripped the cheap headboard tighter, a breathless moan catching high in her throat. This had been happening for a while, these rendezvous. Asami liked calling them that because using a French word sounded a lot better than “going over to my friend’s apartment to get fucked.”

But that what was happening, so. Whatever.

In what had been the greatest use of seventy-five dollars plus tax a few weeks prior, Korra had purchased something the internet had dubbed a “strapless strap-on.” A bit of an oxymoron, but a single use against the dishwasher on a Tuesday afternoon had absolved Asami of any and all grammatical worries. Subsequent uses had absolved her of any and all thought processes, as well.

That night, Korra was ruthless. Asami had known what to expect when she’d received a detailed text regaling the tale of how the woman had knocked all of her previous weightlifting goals out of the water earlier that day, followed by a much more concise, _"Can you swing by?"_

It was a Friday, and she’d just been leaving a horribly stressful day at work, so she was more than ready to accept the invitation.

They had a pretty good set up. The casual hookups were usually quick and intense, but Asami was also in love with her best friend so it wasn’t, like, a _great_ set up.

When she’d mentioned the whole “friends with benefits” situation to Opal whilst drunk off her ass, the other woman had slapped her on the back of the head.

 _That’s a shit idea,_ Opal had said, _I know you, you’re going to catch feelings, dumbass._

Asami had waved Opal off at the time. However, about a month prior and early into their rendezvous, she’d caught Korra’s bright blue eyes between her legs and been hit so fast with the realization that had been building silently for months, that it had sent her right over the edge. It was an orgasm she remembered fondly, but it was also the worst thing that could have happened because it had made everything _complicated_ , and Asami had to deal with _feelings_ from then on.

“ _Fuck._ ”

—is what she’d thought at the prior realization and what she was saying as Korra gripped her hips then, a particularly powerful thrust shoving her right to the edge.

Her eyes were shut tight at the searing pleasure, but she wanted to open them because watching Korra in her element was… it was incredible. When she did, Korra was watching her too, blue eyes dark and lidded, parted lips curling up at the corner as their eyes locked, and that look—that _look_ was more than enough.

She shuddered, arching off the bed as her arms trembled from both the strain from gripping the damn Target headboard and the heady ripples of pleasure that forced a long, breathy moan from her chest. Korra had always been so good at drawing her orgasms out for longer than she could have ever imagined, and she kept her speed up, hitting _just_ the right spot with every single thrust. As it happened, this was one of those instances where Asami’s mind was both muddled with the blinding pleasure reaching every nerve in her body, and drifting towards deeper feelings. The intensity of her first orgasm coupled with the singular focus of her feelings for Korra sent her careening into another, even more powerful climax. She _sobbed_ with the second release, Korra’s name on her lips, and through the ecstasy she felt Korra come down on top of her, pressing their heated bodies together, Korra’s own moans hot at her ear.

She clutched at Korra’s back as the end of her second orgasm gave way to Korra’s first, and to feel the other woman’s muscles tense like that was, in Asami’s opinion, the very greatest of life’s pleasures.

Korra slumped against her after a long moment, and in the afterglow, wrapped around Korra’s trembling figure, she could lie to herself about what they were.

Lazy, indulgent lips left two open kisses against the cut of Asami’s jawline—the exact place Korra knew she loved to be kissed. They made her feel warm and comfortable everywhere and in every sense of the words. She traced her fingers down the notches of Korra’s spine in appreciation, loving the little involuntary jolts when she found the sweet spots she’d memorized.

Korra sighed, spent. The sound made Asami smile.

“I’ll get off, I promise,” Korra mumbled.

Asami hummed a negative, not wanting her to move.

Another sigh, one of resignation, and Korra was pulling away. Asami felt the cold instantly, even though Korra made sure to cover her as she retreated into the bathroom.

All of the pleasure, all of the warmth was gone, like she'd switched off a light. Asami knew the drill from there.

When she’d dressed, Korra was back from the bathroom, clad in her favorite blue fluffy robe. She smiled when she saw Asami. “Thanks for coming over,” she said, “We still on for dinner with the crew next week?”

Asami gave her most convincing smile. “You bet.”

This was the hardest part. Korra always kissed her goodbye, and that night was no exception. 

“You’re the best, Asami,” Korra mumbled against her lips, so genuine, so reverent, and Asami had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the frustrated tears that welled up in her throat.

She gave Korra a final quick peck before she left. She had to get out _then_ so she could cry in the car on the way home.

Such was routine, after all.

 

* * *

 

Dinners with the crew were always wild.

“Dinner” turned into “drinks” more often than not, and Bolin and Mako were trying to one-up each other, both on their sixth shot of tequila.

“Make your own bad decisions, sweetie,” Opal sighed, sipping on her third margarita and eyeing her boyfriend with weary resignation. She turned to Korra and Asami. “I need to pee. Either of you?”

“No ma’am,” Korra declared, raising her first, unfinished glass of water—the unfortunate designated driver, as per their rotation. It had been Bolin the previous time, and honestly, the two of them were the best because they could carry a whopping _two_ of their blacked-out friends. If they left Mako at the bar, Asami was certain that Korra could have dragged everyone else home. But they would never leave Mako alone at the bar… again.

Asami was only at the bottom of cocktail number two, so she shook her head as well, and Opal left for the restroom. Once she was gone, Asami couldn’t help but indulge herself in letting her eyes rake over Korra’s form for the umpteenth time that night. It was so rare to see Korra in a dress, _especially_ one that showed so much leg. The neckline was high, as was the cut of the short sleeves and of the bottom. Asami wasn’t complaining, and she hadn’t been complaining when Korra had sent her a picture of the outfit either. She was also buzzed, so she felt a little bolder than she might’ve been sober.

“Can I help you?” Korra chuckled, and Asami caught her glittering eyes with a smirk.

“Maybe,” she hummed, placing a teasing hand on Korra’s knee. “I think I’m in need of another martini. Get me one?”

Korra grinned. “Only if you ask politely.”

It was a challenge, that much Asami knew. Her hand ascended over smooth skin and hard muscle, but she kept her eyes on Korra’s, watching for any signs of discomfort. They were in a crowded bar, after all. When none showed, she ghosted her fingers along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. God, Korra was giving her that _look_ —all heady and suggestive, tongue wetting her lips.

“Please?” Asami tried again, nails raking lightly enough for Korra to take in a sharp breath and let her legs fall apart.

“Please what?” Korra asked, voice rough and low, eyes never leaving Asami’s. It was apparent then that she’d forgotten about the drink.

“My martini,” Asami urged, not particularly interested in the drink. “I _did_ say please.”

Korra didn’t answer then, but her eyes wandered down to Asami’s lips. _Fuck,_ Asami thought, _we have to get out of here._

Just as Asami was about to suggest they bolt, something hard and hand-like clapped her on one shoulder, and then Bolin’s head was lolling drunkenly on the other. “Asam _iii_ , what’s… uh _seeeven_ timesed by… _teeen?"_

She gave Korra an apologetic look, and tried not to focus too hard on the disappointment in those eyes when she moved her hand from Korra’s thigh to pat the side of Bolin’s head. “Seventy, Bo. Why?”

Asami watched as Korra snorted at whatever face Bolin had made. His next words were both like a discovery and one, continuous release of air, _"Me ’n Mako did ssseventy tequila."_

Even though the guy was a major clam-jam, she couldn’t help but laugh. “You and Mako did _seventeen_ tequila. You beat him, I’m guessing?”

She felt Bolin nod, but she could feel him swaying behind her, and Korra sighed, rising from her seat. “Come on, champ, let’s get back to the car.”

Bolin nodded against her shoulder again, and the two of them helped him stagger into a half-standing position. Opal had returned from the bathroom in time to all but peel Mako off of the bar where he’d fallen asleep, and to close their tab. She followed Korra and Asami out onto the sidewalk as they maneuvered Bolin away from the street.

“So much for a long night, huh?” Opal grunted from behind them. “Remind me never to let my idiot boyfriend challenge his idiot brother to another drinking contest.”

“Love _youuu,"_ Bolin sang, swaying between them.

From over Bolin’s figure, Asami caught Korra’s eye, and she jutted her head behind them. “Go help Opal,” she suggested, “I’ve got him.”

Objectively, Asami knew Korra could handle Bolin, but it was only when she realized that Opal had taken to dragging his barely conscious brother by his arms that she realized how very necessary her aid was.

The _second_ they’d shouldered Mako’s weight together, Opal started giving her shit.

“Can you please get your head out of your ass?”

“I think he’s asleep,” Asami responded, dodging the request even though she knew very well what Opal was talking about.

“I saw you two earlier,” was Opal’s equally evasive reply, “You’re practically dating. Just take the last step.”

Asami sighed, hoisting Mako’s snoring form higher on her shoulder. She looked ahead, where Korra had picked Bolin up bridal-style, his head lolling over her arm like something out of a melodrama. With the tight dress Korra had decided on, she could see the ridges of her back muscles where they strained under dark cloth—but that wasn’t what Opal was talking about. On the other hand, it kind of was, but Asami could assume that Opal would be angry with her if she changed the subject to Korra’s muscles.

When she couldn’t think of an excuse believable enough to respond with, it didn’t even matter because they were already finagling Mako into the backseat with his brother while Opal shoved the two aside to climb in with them.

Once Korra had dropped Opal and the boys off, Asami found that she was nervous. More nervous than she’d been around Korra in recent memory. Before Opal had drawn attention to the situation, Asami knew that she would have been able to go through their routine like she always had, but with Korra beside her then, buckling her seatbelt, things felt different.

“Your place?” Korra asked. Not a demand, not an assertion, and offered with a smile. Asami nodded, hastily piling on the layers of false bravado she’d need for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, the thin veneer was shitty enough for Korra to notice, and her smile gave way. “You okay?”

It would have been the perfect segue. It _would have_. But instead of using honesty—the foundation on which their friendship had been _built_ upon—Asami tacked on another layer of fake confidence and set her hand back on Korra’s knee, just as it had been in the bar.

“Fine. Just a little frustrated that we were interrupted,” she lied easily, which was a little scary. To both ease her own discomfort and urge Korra to drive, she stroked the dark skin there with her thumb. “Let’s go.”

She gave her a crooked grin—one she saw again before Korra disappeared between her legs, trapping her between the kitchen counter and a tongue that made skilled strokes over her clit.

It was so easy to get lost in the moment once they’d started. Korra was experienced, the kind of person Asami could assume would get so lost in emotion during a round of lovemaking—not _fucking_ , like they’d been—but the kind of intimacy that required deep feeling. It was what Asami wanted, and coming apart around Korra’s fingers was doing little to help her ask for it.

Sometimes she found herself trying to steer their rendezvous in that direction. Like afterwards, when they’d fallen into bed and Korra’s legs were slung over Asami’s legs, hips rocking over crooked fingers. They didn’t kiss much outside of their short parting ones (something Asami _resented_ with a _passion_ ) so she’d sometimes try to draw Korra's lips to her own. Only when she would, Korra would angle her head and bite down on her neck or press her forehead against her shoulder while she moved, which is what happened when Asami reached for her then.

It was _beyond_ frustrating, because she knew if she kissed Korra in the middle of it all, she’d be able to _feel_ her pleasure, and that maybe she’d be able to show her without words how much she meant to her—how badly she wanted more out of their relationship.

Propped up on her forearms like she was, head resting against Asami's shoulder, Korra’s canting hips became erratic and desperate, and Asami reached up with her other hand to preform the final touch—something that finished Korra without fail.

Korra’s desperate little noises slid into a long, breathless moan as Asami raked her nails down her spine, slowly, deliberately, taking care to pay attention to the spots that made Korra squirm. With the movement, Asami felt muscles flutter around her fingers, and one final crook and a firm press of her palm set Korra’s entire body to shuddering.

“ _Asami,_ ” Korra gasped, body rigid as Asami continued her ministrations, easing her through her climax.

Her own name on Korra’s lips set off something deeply visceral in her, as it always had. It made her clench and shiver, it felt like love rather than lust, it sounded like a prayer or a hymn, and Asami had to bite down on her lip and shove her focus back to Korra’s pleasure because if she thought too hard on the way it made her feel, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from getting emotional.

As Korra came down from her high, Asami wanted nothing more than for her weight to come down on top of her, to press their bodies together and just lie there. Much to her dismay, Korra did the exact opposite once she’d recovered, and pushed herself up, smiling as she covered Asami with her sheets, as she always did. She moved off of the bed, and Asami allowed herself the small enjoyment of watching Korra’s muscles shift as she stretched before her mind set right back to the ever-present, post-coital discontent.

Maybe if one drunk, naked encounter hadn’t turned into _three_ , and maybe if Asami hadn’t _suggested_ the whole setup afterwards, trying to talk about it wouldn’t be like brain surgery.

“It’s pretty late, Korra,” she tried, tugging the sheets around herself.

Korra wiggled into her underwear, leaning back at the corner of the bed where she sat down once she had. “Safer to drive—not too many cars out,” She tossed Asami one of those crooked grins. “Safer for _them_ , I mean.”

Asami was thankful that she’d turned to tug on her shoes because the smile she tried had probably looked more like a grimace. _Why_ was this so _infuriating?_ “I guess, but we’ve been having a lot of rain,” she said, and it was a really pitiful attempt, “The roads are pretty slick though… you could hydroplane.”

_A whole new level of pathetic._

Korra just laughed, rising from the bed. “I’m not _that_ bad of a driver,” she teased, coming over to where Asami lay with a smile. She leaned in close, close enough for Asami to feel her next words on her lips. “I’ll be safe. Don’t worry about me.”

With that, Korra leaned in for their goodbye kiss, and Asami found that she was instantly lost in it. It was deeper than ever before, almost as if Korra was trying to reassure her of her safety. While Asami cared that Korra made it home in one piece, she would have much preferred her destination be the empty side of her bed.

It was tender, slow, Korra’s lips sliding over her own, and just as Asami found the presence of mind to reach up and tangle her fingers in Korra’s hair to urge her to stay—Korra pulled back— _really_ far back.

She grinned, a little uneasy, and her next words came after she’d turned on her heel, moving to leave. “I’ll text you when I get home,” she said, “but you don’t have to wait up for me.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Asami couldn’t help but feel a little bewildered and bereft, because never before had she seen that unease.

She didn’t dwell on it much because the realization that she was naked and alone again hit her like a freight train, and she tried her best to forget about the way Korra’s lips felt on hers, but she really _really_ didn’t want to.

She hadn’t realized that she’d fallen asleep, but when she woke early, feeling like she hadn’t slept at all, there were two texts from Korra.

_home! i forgot to say thanks, but you know youre the best ;D_

_wanna come by tomorrow to watch the game??_

Those were the moments where the _benefits_ part of their situation took a backseat. Korra was still her friend—her _best_ friend, and they could still watch Sunday night football without any pretext.

Except the _massive_ pretext of her unrequited—

_Sure :) I’ll be by at 7. Want me to bring anything?_

She pushed herself out of bed to ready herself for the day, not expecting Korra to have slept as little as she had, but much to her surprise, her phone vibrated not a moment later.

_just yourself :))_

If only Korra knew what simple texts like that did to her.

 

* * *

 

Hanging out casually with Korra would have been a lot easier if Asami could pull herself together.

She couldn’t, though. And the problem was, when they weren’t explicitly hanging out for sex, she didn’t even feel like she could _touch_ Korra. It was all or nothing, and Asami had no idea if she was overthinking the whole damn thing.

And it seemed like Korra always made a concerted effort to be as casual as possible, like their friendship had never changed. Like they'd never gone down on each other. Like they didn’t have sex three or four days out of the week.

She was in a tank top and a pair of boyshorts, and it became apparent to Asami (whose mind continued to drift further and further down the storm drain) that she wasn’t wearing a bra either. It wasn’t like anything she was doing was inherently sexual, it was just comfortable, like she’d always been. It made Asami feel like she was going just a _little_ insane.

“Son of a _bitch!"_ Korra yelled, snapping Asami out of her thoughts. On the opposite side of the couch, she was fisting her hands in her hair, glaring at the screen. “What are they _doing?"_

Korra had always been a Seahawks fan, but it looked like they wouldn’t be lasting long against the Giants—which gave Asami reason to gloat.

“What they always do,” Asami hummed, popping a pretzel in her mouth. Korra turned theatrically to glare at her, hands still ripping at her hair and expression a little deranged. Asami just winked at her. “ _Losing._ ”

“I swear, if your awful team pulls this win out of their ass, I am not speaking to you for a _week."_

Asami just shrugged. “It’s not my fault the Seahawks are garbage. No one forced you to like a garbage team, Korra.”

But Korra was watching the game again, eyes glued to the screen. It wasn’t that Asami wasn’t interested in the game, it was that Korra was close enough for her to imagine what if would have felt like to curl up next to her. To feel warm and comfortable in her arms. It was such a strange desire because they were already hooking up every week, but those encounters lacked the affection Asami had only just realized that she craved.

That thought gave her an idea. A bad one.

On the coffee table was a bag of pistachios. Asami liked pistachios, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that they were closer to Korra. Close enough, in fact, to necessitate Asami moving closer to the other woman on the couch to reach them. And yes, she could presumably return to her spot on the opposite side, but after retrieving said pistachios… she could also sit right next to Korra.

She could hear the _Mission Impossible_ theme in her head.

Going through the motions of retrieving said pistachios was easy enough, and when she leant back with the bag in her hands, her entire side was pressed up against Korra. Opening the bag, she propped her feet up next to Korra’s, swinging her left leg over Korra’s right as she picked out a pistachio.

And then, she could feel Korra tense.

 _Shit,_ Asami thought, trying to play her pistachio-eating as cool as she could manage. _Abort. Abort!_

But she didn’t have time to move her leg or speak, because Korra was already talking. “Hey,” she began at length, with what sounded like nervousness, turning Asami’s insides to ice. “I kinda just wanted to watch the game with you. I, um…” _Oh nonono._ “Is that cool?”

Instantly, Asami retreated like she was on fire. Korra thought she’d… oh god _dammit._ “Of course!” she squeaked, _way_ too quickly and a couple octaves too high. “I wasn’t trying to… never mind. Sorry.”

Pride wounded—no, not wounded— _mutilated_ , Asami sat back against the other corner of the couch, chewing on her pistachio, eyes on the screen, but she wasn’t watching the game. It was the end of the fourth quarter, and the Giants won, but Korra didn’t say a word as her team left the field in disgrace, which only served to amp up the worry coiling in the pit of Asami’s stomach.

Korra turned the TV off, leaning forward on the edge of the couch and not meeting Asami’s eyes when she spoke. “Maybe I fucked up.”

If Asami hadn’t been sitting, she probably would have fallen. “Korra, I didn’t—“

“No,” Korra interrupted, “I broke the rules. We didn’t talk about them, but I shouldn’t have… ugh.”

Asami frowned. “What—what rules?”

“The whole,” Korra waved her hands around as if trying to catch the right words out of the air. “Friends with benefits thing. There are _rules."_

“…did we make rules?”

“No, but there just _are,_ ” Korra insisted, “I shouldn’t have invited you over, I guess. We haven’t hung out as _just_ friends since we started… you know.”

While unsure of what the hell _rules_ Korra was going on about, Asami was also worried about the fact that she’d made things uncomfortable with her stupid, stupid idea. “I’m sorry, Korra,” she began, not knowing exactly where she’d be heading with the apology, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I don’t mind hanging out like this, I just… yeah.” She finished, miserably.

Korra didn’t seem to be listening, leant forward with her hands clasped. She worried at her lip. “I know things are fun, but we can have other fun, you know? Like this,” She gestured at the TV.

“I’m not saying we _can’t,_ ” Asami began, the pit in her stomach growing. She realized that her worry was presenting itself as frustration too late, because she could see Korra’s frown deepen at her tone. And she wanted to say something else to smooth it over, but she couldn’t think of a single reassuring word with discomfort spreading through her like wildfire.

They sat in several minutes of horribly uncomfortable silence where Asami contemplated every single thing that had ever gone wrong in her entire life and how a lifetime of mistakes had lead up to this one—encroaching on her best friend’s personal space, ruining a friendship because she was a _creep—_

“I miss being your friend,” Korra blurted, suddenly on her feet. Stunned at the admission, Asami turned to meet her eyes, but Korra was looking at the floor. “We don’t hang out like _this_ anymore, Asami, like _friends_. Every time we hang out, we just have sex.”

It had come so fast, so out of left field that Asami couldn’t decide whether she was hurt or confused or desperate. Regardless, she had to know, “Do you not want to anymore?”

“No, I _do_ ,” Korra sighed, rubbing at her eyes, frustrated. “I know you only wanted sex from me, and trust me, I’m _not_ complaining about it, but can’t we be friends too? Isn’t that what _friends_ with benefits is?”

“Korra,” Asami began, standing to better address her. “I never said I _only_ wanted sex.”

Finally, Korra met her eyes, confused. “What do you mean? You said…”

“I said—while drunk, mind you _—_ that I wanted to keep having sex with you. I don’t know what you took that as, but I never said I wanted to stop being your _friend_ ,” Asami explained, then, softer, “We’ve never… actually talked about this before.”

“Because I thought you didn’t want to!” Korra exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and only responding to the second half of Asami's reply. “You’ve never _once_ said that you wanted to talk about it.”

Now she was getting frustrated. “Because I thought _you_ didn’t want to talk about it! You’re always hurrying to leave and I was _surprised_ when you wanted me to come over today because as soon as we’re done, you’re gone!”

“That’s—“ Korra sputtered, “That’s the hook-up rule! You said you just wanted sex and—“

“What _rule—_ Korra, I _never said that!"_

“But that’s what I thought! I leave because you always… you give me this _face_ like you’re uncomfortable with me after we’re done so I just pack up and go.”

Asami stepped back, offended, “What _face?_ Korra, I’ve never given you a—a _face—_ “

“You have! And I have to go because those are the _rules_. You don’t kiss often, you don’t stay the night—“

“—Korra _—_ “

“—because you catch feelings—“

“— _Korra—_ “

“—but I already _had_ feelings so what the fuck does it matter, right?”

Asami stopped.

“There it is,” Korra huffed, her voice wavering and derisive, “There you go. Now I ruined the whole thing with my feelings.” She stared hard at the wall, crossing her arms tightly. “I _leave,_ Asami, because if I stay another second I’m not gonna be able to step away. I kiss you _once_ , maybe twice, because if I go any further I’m not going to be able to keep the whole ‘friends’ thing under wraps.” She shook her head, and Asami could see the tears begin to fall. “I’m _trying_ , Asami. I want to keep doing this… I love being with you, but I’m _trying_. Maybe you can just take feelings out of it, but… just give me a little credit, okay?”

They were both silent then, but when Asami spoke, it was with conviction. “Why haven’t you told me any of this?”

Korra sighed, turning back towards Asami with red-rimmed eyes. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had going on. I figured I could keep it quiet, and…” she trailed off, looking more vulnerable and lost than Asami had ever seen her.

“I thought…” Asami shook her head, smiling at herself, her own stupidity. “I thought you left because you wanted to.”

“No, I—why are you _smiling?"_

“I’m so stupid,” Asami laughed, feeling giddy and light as air as she met Korra’s bewildered eyes. “ _We’re_ so stupid.”

Korra gaped at her, and Asami wanted to fix the hurt she saw in Korra’s expression, but she really couldn’t get over how _stupid_ they were. She laughed until she began to cry—happy, delirious tears.

“Be my girlfriend,” she laughed through the tears, getting to watch as the hurt on Korra’s face faded into shock, and then disbelief.

“You—you mean you…” Korra tried, and Asami just nodded, laughing and crying and probably looking like a fucking disaster.

It was another moment of that before Korra surged towards her, and their arms wrapped around each other, holding on as if their lives depended on it. “Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” Asami mumbled into the crook of Korra’s neck, still crying and huffing with laughter.

“Yeah,” Korra all but giggled, her own desperate, giddy tears staining Asami’s shirt. “Yeah, I’m your girlfriend. I’m going to be your girlfriend _so hard."_

Asami snorted, clutching Korra tight, wondering how in the world Sunday night football had lead to this.

Korra was the first to pull back, and as soon as she had, they were kissing. It was everything that Asami had ever wanted. She threaded her fingers in Korra’s hair like she’d always wanted, and Korra pulled her close like she’d dreamed, and their lips were so warm and so loving against each other that Asami was convinced that she could have stayed like that forever.

When they did part, Korra was grinning, murmuring against her lips, “I know I was bitching about sex, but I really want to have sex now,” she said. Asami laughed before she continued. “But like _better_ than sex. And I want you to stay after.”

“ _Better_ than sex?” Asami teased, loving the way Korra’s eyes slid shut as she scratched at the back of her head. “What’s _better_ than sex?”

“Pancakes,” Korra hummed, still visibly enjoying the gentle affection. “For breakfast.”

“Sold,” Asami said with a grin, leaning in to capture Korra’s lips again.

Their journey towards the bedroom wasn’t at all what it had been before. Before, Asami had always felt rushed, like she’d been chasing a moving car uphill. They were always desperate, quick, and Asami had never had a chance to savor the feelings.

This time, Korra undressed her slowly, making sure to caress every new bit of skin she uncovered. Her shirt was first in line, and Korra’s head dipped down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbones and tracing her sides with a gentleness Asami had never felt with _anyone_ she’d been with. It made her shiver, almost overwhelmed by the difference in mood.

Korra kissed her deeply as she undid her bra, tongue sliding over her own and _god_ , Korra had never kissed her like that before.

Asami’s breath left her in a huff, and Korra pulled back a fraction of an inch to ask, “Is this okay?”

She couldn’t find the words to respond, so she just nodded, tugging the hem of Korra’s tank top up so she could press their bare bodies together. Korra obliged, and as soon as they were both topless, Asami moved forward, cupping Korra’s breasts in her hands and pressing a gentle kiss to the column of Korra’s neck. And Korra _moaned_ , not from the pressure on her breasts, because Asami hadn’t even _done_ anything, but from the softness of that kiss, it seemed. Asami repeated the action with similar results, and the noise Korra made when she combined that kiss with a firm swipe against hardened nipples sent a jolt of heat right to her core.

Korra’s fingers tangled in Asami’s hair, urging the kisses at her neck, and Asami knew that the want that was so apparent in Korra was going to make her weak in the knees sooner rather than later, so she pushed them back, finding the edge of Korra’s bed so they could ease down on top of it. 

As soon as they were horizontal, Korra wrestled them both out of their bottoms, and when she’d finished Asami found herself above Korra, just staring into her eyes.

“Hi,” Korra said, smiling. “How are you?”

“Never better,” Asami replied, tucking a strand of hair behind Korra’s ear. “I had heard that a really hot lady wanted to jump into bed with me. Do you know where I could find her?”

Korra hummed with mock thoughtfulness, but the gentle look on her face betrayed her playfulness. “Hot lady… well, I… I mean, _I’m_ a lady. And,” She gestured down at herself, “I’m pretty hot, actually.”

Thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, even whilst completely naked and _definitely_ turned on, Asami gasped with feigned shock. “You _are_ , aren’t you? And isn’t it the darnedest thing—we’re in bed already!”

Korra laughed, a wonderful low noise that made her eyes sparkle as she cupped Asami’s face to bring it down to her own. Before their lips met, Korra mumbled, “I guess I’m the lady you’re looking for.”

Oh, and she _was_. She’d always been. And as they kissed, Asami couldn’t help herself from smiling against Korra’s lips, so gleefully absorbed in the feeling of Korra’s body against hers—no rushing, no worry, just gentle exploration of all the places she’d only felt in passing before.

Instead of gripping, frantic movements, Korra’s hands were tender, tracing skin she knew was sensitive with reverence. Asami found herself sighing into the kiss every time Korra’s fingers teased her sides or her hips or the spot between her shoulder blades. They’d done fast before, but this was comfort. A slow heat that was melting Asami from the inside out rather than a raging fire that threatened to burn her.

Korra flipped them sideways on the bed, and once it seemed she was satisfied with how their legs were tangled and their bodies pressed against each other, she pulled back so she could press her forehead against Asami’s.

“I want you to wear the thing,” Korra breathed, like the words were running away from her.

She didn’t have to elaborate, but Asami couldn’t help but be a little surprised by the request. More often than not, Korra took the reins, and Asami wasn’t about to complain, but this would be a change—a welcome one, she was sure.

“Okay,” she replied, but didn’t move, unwilling to leave the comfort of their embrace to find it just yet. She kissed the tip of Korra’s nose, earning herself a smile. “What brought this on?”

She felt Korra’s fingers, restless at the dip of her spine. Korra didn’t meet her eyes when she spoke, “I’ve wanted to, I just…” she trailed off for a moment, drumming her fingers against Asami’s back. “It’s a pretty vulnerable thing for me, you know?”

 _Ah,_ Asami thought, realizing, “It is. You felt like you couldn’t be that open.”

“Until about half an hour ago,” Korra chuckled, meeting Asami’s eyes again with a curious expression. “You’re okay with it?”

She confirmed her comfort by way of explaining, rolling over to retrieve the toy from its place in Korra’s nightstand drawer. When she rolled back, she gave Korra a smile. “Of course. I trust you, Korra.”

Korra returned the smile and added a lingering kiss. “I trust you too.”

And the way they interacted—like _lovers_ , not like _fuck-buddies_ —felt so natural. As Korra made a stupid joke followed by a series of kisses, Asami realized through a laugh that this was just an extension of their friendship. The friends with benefits situation might have been beneficial on the surface, but it didn’t serve the connection they’d had as just friends. _This_ did. Korra’s hands in her hair and a barely suppressed laugh behind her lips, Asami sticking her tongue out as Korra wiggled her eyebrows once she’d figured the toy out—these weren’t the things they’d done as friends, of course, but they were borne of the same place. Above Korra like she was, Asami could think of nothing better.

“You okay?” she asked, noting the strange look on Korra’s face. “We can do something else, if you want.”

Korra shook her head. “I want this. I just feel different,” she said, voice cracking at the end. She frowned at herself, eyes glassy, before looking away. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Asami prodded gently, moving to her forearms so she could run soothing fingers over Korra’s cheek.

“For getting… for getting emotional like this,” she huffed at herself, wiping at her eyes, “I don’t know. I’m happy. I’m really, really happy, but…”

“But this is special,” Asami finished for her, knowing how Korra was feeling. She could match the emotion in Korra’s eyes to the one in her chest. “I know.”

Korra looked back at her, awe more than anything, and drew her down for a kiss. Asami had anticipated the emotion—but she couldn’t have prepared herself for it if she’d _tried_. Not that she would have wanted to, anyway, because the passion behind the kiss made her head swim and her heart stutter in her chest. She could feel Korra’s calves slide high against the backs of her thighs, still lost in the kiss. Korra didn’t have to give her verbal confirmation, but Asami pressed forward with her hips, gasping against Korra’s lips as she felt a hand brush her thigh and Korra guided them together completely.

Once she’d pushed forward as far as she could, their lips parted and Korra sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Korra?” Asami asked, barely above a whisper, worried that she’d hurt her. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Korra responded, breathless and hoarse. Asami felt herself clench at the tone. “It’s really good.”

Still uncertain, Asami gave a testing thrust—slow and deliberate—and the combination of the wonderful push and pull on her end and the way Korra’s eyes fluttered shut and jaw went slack erased whatever worry she’d had. Asami knew what it was like on Korra’s end, from several past experiences, but being in control was altogether different. The way she had to move set off different kinds of sensations, and the way Korra clutched at her shoulders and sighed brought on just as much pleasure as the toy was bringing.

She moved slow, though, trying to get them both used to the difference. _Apparently_ , that wasn’t enough for Korra, because without warning, there were two hands on her ass, gripping and pulling her as close as space would allow. Asami jolted at the change, about to protest, but looking down at Korra’s expression—lidded eyes and a weak but mischievous smirk—made her think again.

“ _Excuse_ you,” Asami joked, a little winded from pleasure and exertion. “You can use your _words_ , ma’am.”

“Okay then,” Korra laughed, “is it going to sound lame if I ask you to make love to me?”

 _Oh, god_. Asami’s heart lurched at those words, and it was all she could do to keep things light because she hadn’t been expecting _that_ , and now she felt like she wanted to _cry_. “Pretty lame,” she confirmed, still half-joking, but failing to keep even the slightest tremble out of her voice. Korra blinked up at her, more alert, but before she could say anything else, Asami leant down to kiss her. Soft, tender, before whispering against her lips, “But I’d be happy to.”

She felt Korra smile, and then there were fingers tangled in her hair, and it jogged her hips to moving again, in earnest this time. And she felt Korra _everywhere_. There was no distance, no imaginary wall between them. Asami didn’t have to think twice about kissing Korra whenever she wanted to (every few seconds) and every time she did, Korra responded with such _feeling_ , Asami found herself losing all sense of rhythm as her mind clouded. This was what she knew Korra could be, and she was _lost_ in it.

“ _Korra,_ ” she gasped without thought, without anything else to say, really, but Korra’s eyes were dark when she met them, her fingers running through Asami’s hair absently but desperately, like she was trying to convey something she couldn’t put into words.

She wanted to keep moving, but the strain in her arms was becoming too much, coupled with the motions of her hips. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on moving, but Korra’s hand came to her cheek, and she opened her eyes. “Flip—“ her words halted on a high moan, but she swallowed, after a moment, continuing, “Flip us over.”

Asami didn’t ask questions, just obeyed, and the moment Korra had situated herself over Asami’s hips, Asami was infinitely grateful for the change, because not only could she rest her arms, but Korra above her, _riding_ her, it was quite possibly the greatest thing Asami had ever seen. The way Korra’s hips rolled against her own, bearing down on the toy with more than enough friction for them both, Asami realized that she was well on her way, too. She did her best to guide Korra’s hips with her hands, but Korra’s rhythm was _perfect_ , and when she grabbed one of Asami’s hands at her waist, lacing their fingers together so she could bring it to her mouth—Asami _melted_. Those eyes, and those lips on her hand, so gentle and loving in contrast to the frantic rocking of her hips… Asami didn’t even have to reach out to her, before Korra came down to kiss her.

And she _needed_ the kiss. It was warm and it was open and Korra whimpered against her lips at the change of position, trying to speak with a voice robbed of breath. “My—“ she tried, and the desperation in her voice set off something powerful in Asami, and she gripped Korra’s arms where she held them at either side of her head. “My back,” Korra tried again, and this time Asami knew exactly what she meant.

Like she had so many times before, Asami traced her nails down Korra’s spine. The reaction was instant—Korra went rigid, her breath caught, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape. Never— _never_ had Asami been this close while watching Korra come undone. It was so satisfying, too, because although the erratic push of her hips wasn’t providing the movement Asami needed, she was afforded the knowledge that it was _her_ fingers along Korra’s back that had sent her over the edge. And _god_ , if _that_ satisfaction wasn’t enough, once Korra had ridden the crest of her climax as high as it would go, it was _Asami’s_ name that she moaned as she trembled on the way back down.

Although she hadn’t come, Asami had never felt so satisfied as she did when Korra finished, spent and gasping into the crook of her neck. She ran her hands through Korra’s hair as she recovered, perfectly content to stay just as they were for the foreseeable future.

Korra pressed weak kisses against the cut of Asami’s jaw, just as she’d always liked. Only this time, she didn’t pull away. They just lay there, catching their breaths, kissing and touching and knowing that neither would have to go anywhere. Not for any ridiculous rules, not for fear of discomfort—and Asami could never remember a time when she’d felt more comfortable.

Korra’s kisses turned deeper along her jaw and her neck, and in her dazed comfort, Asami could feel the tickle of arousal build up again. Korra’s lips trailed to her ear, and she shivered when she spoke. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you hanging, did you?” she said, her voice raspy and still thick with desire.

“You wouldn’t have been,” Asami breathed, watching as Korra pushed herself upright to tug the toy out of them both. She set it aside and rolled on to her back. Asami smirked at her, a little confused. “What are you doing?”

Korra slapped her hips, grinning. “Come here.”

Asami rolled her eyes, but she was excited all over again, not sure what Korra had planned. “A repeat performance, hm?” she teased, straddling Korra’s hips.

“Not exactly,” Korra murmured, rising to meet the sensitive skin of Asami’s breasts with pliant lips.

She took her time, hands tracing Asami’s sides, her hips, the dip of her spine as her mouth alternated breasts, tugging each nipple between her lips to suck and bite. Every ministration left Asami a little more breathless, and she wound her fingers into Korra’s hair, pulling her mouth harder against her. While Korra kept one hand at the small of Asami’s back, tracing feather-light patterns that made sure that Asami couldn’t manage a single, complete breath, her other hand wandered to her front. Asami clenched with anticipation, knowing full well that she was already a mess at the mercy of Korra’s mouth and fingers, and just how talented Korra was with _both_ , but Korra’s fingers only carded through the dark patch of hair at the apex of her thighs, absently, like she could wait forever to dip lower. Well, Asami _couldn’t_ wait, and she grabbed Korra’s hand, urging it down.

She felt Korra smile against her breast as she resisted. “Korra, _please,_ ” she whined.

It seemed Korra had other, more frustrating plans, because the hand left completely, and she lay back down. Before Asami could set to _begging_ , though, both hands were on her ass, guiding her to scoot further up Korra’s body and— _oh_. They’d never really done _this_ before.

The moment she settled over Korra’s mouth, she had no idea _why_ it had never happened.

Asami was absolutely _not_ frustrated anymore, buckling forward at the first pass of Korra’s tongue through over-sensitive flesh, and grabbing the headboard—the fucking rattling Target headboard—as she rocked her hips over Korra’s mouth. And because she already knew how good Korra was, and how easily she picked up on things, it was all Asami could do to stay upright. Her thighs trembled as Korra’s mouth came right over her clit, tongue tracing the seal her lips had made. It was a brief moment before Korra’s fingers joined in, slipping into her so easily, she gasped at the sudden fullness, the wonderful pressure exactly where she needed it.

She sucked in a breath between her teeth, hips stilling as the tension from her breath and the _perfect_ pressure from Korra’s lips and her fingers pulled her entire body taut like a rubber band, ready to snap. Korra’s other hand meandered up, to make those light little patterns against the sensitive skin at the small of her back, and it was so much so fast, Asami couldn’t have stopped herself from coming _right then_ if she’d _tried_. And she wasn’t going to _try_ , because that would have been stupid.

Another stunted breath fueled the beginning, and one hand flew from the headboard to the back of Korra’s head, holding her in place because Asami would be _damned_ if she moved—her orgasm washing over her as she struggled for breath, struggled for her voice, and once she’d hit the peak of her pleasure, everything came crashing back down. It had been effortless on the way up, but when the smooth ascent dissolved into shuddering moans and the involuntary jerking of her legs, Korra kept her lips sealed and her fingers crooked—right where they were supposed to be, and Asami could not have been more thankful for anything _ever._

At the end, Asami knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself upright if she wanted to, and Korra seemed to know it too, because after one final pass of her tongue—a gentle one that still made Asami jolt—she pulled her fingers out, and helped to ease her back down on the bed.

“Okay?” she heard Korra ask, though her eyes were closed as she caught her breath.

It was a simple question, but Asami laughed at it, eyes still closed as she reveled in the afterglow. She felt Korra settle in beside her, a leg thrown over her own and a finger tracing her collarbone. For once, Asami felt completely justified in taking however long she needed to collect herself, because Korra was there, tucked into her side, comfortable and warm and not going anywhere.

When she did open her eyes, Korra was watching her own finger run patterns over Asami’s skin. She looked up, and met Asami’s eyes with a smile. “Hey,” she said, splaying her fingers against Asami’s chest. “There you are. I thought you were gonna pass out on me.”

“And miss this?” Asami chuckled, turning so she could better face Korra and tug her closer with a hand at the base of her neck. “Never.”

Korra threw her arm over her hip, pulling them even closer. She kissed the tip of Asami’s nose. “I think I feel a cliche coming on.”

“What kind?”

“Like the rom-com kind. Like a really bad one.”

“Oh?” Asami hummed, leaning in for a quick peck before pulling back to take in Korra’s face. “Do tell.”

Korra didn’t meet her eyes, and while that might have worried her _before_ the fantastic sex, now Asami felt much calmer, more patient. She watched the little battle Korra looked to be fighting with herself. It was, frankly, adorable, but she was also curious about what Korra had to say. There was no pressure, to do or say anything, she’d felt as if everything had already _been_ said, save the one thing that had _caused_ all of the miscommunication and turmoil— _oh._ Was she going to…?

At the thought, Asami felt her heart thump harder in her chest. Maybe she wouldn’t, though. Maybe it was something simple, something easy. She’d had enough _complication_ to last a lifetime, but if Korra was contemplating what she _thought_ she was… well, it _was_ a cliche, but one Asami was absolutely, one hundred percent ready to hear.

She felt Korra’s fingers tap against her hip like they had before, restless and nervous again. She didn’t want that. She wanted Korra to feel comfortable—whatever it was she wanted to say.

“You don’t _have_ to tell,” she amended, scratching lightly at the base of Korra’s skull like she’d enjoyed.

Korra shook her head. “I want to. But I…” she looked up, and Asami wasn’t exactly surprised to find her looking so sheepish. “I kinda feel like you know. You’re making that face.”

“What _face?"_

“The know-it-all face. You’ve got a know-it-all face. Your eyebrow twitches a little,” she reached to tap the edge of Asami’s eyebrow, “here.”

While it was endearing to find that Korra knew her _faces_ , she also knew that she wasn’t making one to begin with. “An eyebrow twitch is not a _face_.”

“ _And,_ ” Korra began, “you get a little smirk. And your eyes squint a little.” Well, now that she was aware of it, she could feel herself making the damn face. Korra laughed, although it wavered a little. “That face means you know what I’m thinking.”

She wasn’t _wrong_. When she wanted them to be, Korra’s emotions were an open book. Or maybe Asami was just good at reading her.

Still, “Mind-reading is not one of my innumerable talents, I’m sorry to say,” she said, “Underwater basket-weaving and houses of cards—yes. But not mind-reading.”

That made Korra ease up. “Well, you’re _wrong_ , but…” She cast her eyes down again, huffing at herself. When she spoke again, her words were sharp, “I don’t know, it’s too soon.”

From where she was, Asami could see tears forming at the edges of her eyes. And no, she wasn’t a mind-reader, but Korra wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding what she wanted to say. There was a short confliction between the need to comfort her lover (and even the term in her _mind_ made her giddy) and the overwhelming desire to just _say it._ In her adult years, Asami had learned to curb her impulsiveness, but with Korra’s heart laid bare before her, no thought had to be put into her decision.

She cupped Korra’s cheek, smiling when watery blue eyes met hers. “It’s not too soon if you’ve been feeling it for months,” At this, Korra’s eyes widened in surprise. “I love you too.”

It wasn’t until Korra kissed her, passionate and loving and almost wild, that Asami realized the tears between their cheeks were _hers_. But it didn’t matter, Korra’s hands carding through her hair, her lips open and insistent—it felt like the sentiment. It _felt_ like an ‘I love you.’ And Korra had always been a show rather than tell kind of person, so with the _show_ being a declaration of love, Asami was so overwhelmed by the force behind it. It was like everything Korra did; meaningful, deliberate, and altogether wonderful.

They made love again, because neither would have had it any other way—now that it had been said, the floodgates were open, and she could repeat it again and again into Korra’s skin and have it reciprocated tenfold.

When passion gave way to exhaustion, she lay against Korra’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. Before sleep took her, though, she felt Korra’s lips at her forehead, and a mumbled ‘I love you,’ was the last thing she heard before the morning.

 

* * *

 

Korra snored.

A little. It was adorable, and it was the first thing Asami realized when she woke up with Korra’s arms wrapped tight around her, feeling more content than she ever had in her entire life. But those were the things she’d never known before because they’d never done _this._

 _Oh_ , and she had never been so comfortable and warm and cozy—and she had to pee.

Korra was still fast asleep, and the way she’d tangled her limbs with Asami’s didn’t seem like an easy puzzle to unlock.

She kissed the tip of Korra’s nose. Nothing. Her forehead. Nothing. Her cheeks. Nothing. Her mouth. Nothing. Her mouth. Nothing. Her mouth _harder_. “…mmf?”

“Korra, I love you, but I have to pee,” Her urgency gave way at the lazy smile that spread across Korra’s face. God _Jesus,_ how was anyone allowed to be this _cute?_ Still, the fact remained. “ _Korra_.”

“ _Mmf,_ ” Asami didn’t _want_ to resort to Plan B, but Korra wasn’t giving her much of an option. She jammed her fingers into Korra’s underarm—a trick she’d discovered while drunk—and instantly she flew off of her. _"Jesus!"_

Asami rolled sideways out of bed like she was in a spy movie, which probably looked really stupid naked, but she yelled back as she retreated into the bathroom, “I’ll make it up to you!”

When she returned, she was sure that Korra would still be in bed, but a pan clattered in the kitchen, and she thought for a second about dressing, but she’d only been gone a minute, which meant that Korra was probably naked in the kitchen. And that prospect was so exciting that Asami high-tailed it out of the bedroom and—yes. Yes, she was naked in the kitchen.

She gave Asami an almost comical frown when she noticed her. “You could have woken me up _nicely._ ”

Asami had to (understandably, of course) take a minute to admire, but once she had, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I _tried_. I had no idea you slept like a ton of bricks.”

“ _Well,_ ” Korra harrumphed theatrically, pulling out a box of pancake mix, “I’m glad you know now.”

At that, Asami softened. “I’m glad I know too.”

It looked like Korra wanted to keep the show going for a moment, but she smiled in that easy way, and Asami went to her. “Off the record, you look kind of like an angel when you sleep,” Korra quipped, pulling her closer with an arm around her waist. “Off the record.”

Asami rolled her eyes, slipping her arms over Korra’s broad shoulders. “Of course. Why would we ever put such _nonsense_ on the record?”

Korra was not paying attention to the conversation, her eyes drifting down to Asami’s lips. “What record?” she mumbled absently.

Asami couldn’t help but laugh into the following kiss. A laugh that turned into a sigh when Korra’s fingers began their wicked little patterns against the small of her back.

“Let’s eat,“ Korra said against her cheek, with a long pause before, “…the pancakes.”

She laughed again. “There _are_ no pancakes.”

“There _will_ be pancakes, just you wait,” Korra said, turning back to her pancake mix. Asami couldn’t let her go too far, wrapping her arms around her waist so she could stay pressed against Korra’s back while she cooked. It was, decidedly, a very good idea.

They ate their pancakes naked on the couch, Asami propped in Korra’s lap, and even though she’d been turned on in the kitchen with the kissing and the touching, she found that she was just comfortable—sitting naked on Korra’s also naked lap with a blueberry pancake in her mouth. Korra didn’t have clean forks or any syrup, so they’d taken to eating with their hands.

“ _Hand_ cakes,” Korra gasped, “They’re _handcakes_.”

Asami’s eyes widened. “They _are_.”

After they finished their handcakes, a shower was in order, of course, and it was the perfect setting for Asami to apologize for the fact that she’d tickled Korra awake.

For some reason, there were a lot of old people in Korra’s apartment complex, and her walk-in shower had a built-in seat. For that, Asami was thankful, because Korra didn’t look nearly stable enough to hold herself up. The fact that _Asami_ was the reason for that instability made her proud, and the fact that she’d woken up next to Korra and had breakfast with Korra and told Korra that she loved her and that now they were having morning-after shower sex—all of that was making her giddy.

Korra rocked herself over her mouth, one hand at the back of her head and the other gripping the edge of the shower seat. They’d never had shower sex before, and that was a travesty in and of itself, because the way Korra looked, chest heaving, eyes shut, wet and glistening _everywhere_ was doing more for Asami than she could have ever fathomed. She let Korra drive herself over her tongue again and again, passing over her clit with the flat of it—a motion that had never failed to bring about a broken moan.

She pressed a finger inside, and then two, and Korra cried out, the sound reverberating against the glass and tile. She gripped the seat with both hands, her abs tightening at every thrust, and everything was perfect, and—

Asami moved her mouth away, replacing it with her other thumb over Korra’s clit. Korra didn’t seem to mind the change, lost in her pleasure, but a thought had come barreling into her brain, and she had to ask.

“Did you leave the stove on?”

She hadn’t stopped her movements, and wasn’t _going_ to, so Korra had to open her eyes with much difficulty, frowning, incredulous. “Why— _fuck_ —why are you asking me _right_ — _oh, there—now?"_

Korra was right. If they burned the apartment complex down, so be it. She set her mouth back to work, and really, that was all it took. Korra arched off the seat, searching for as much pressure as Asami could give, and she gave all she could. An apology for the wake up call and another one for the interrupting question. Curling her fingers, working her tongue, anything she could while Korra let out a series of quivering moans and sighs and curses, ending as Korra’s hand came to the back of Asami’s head, letting her know that it was okay to stop.

She kissed her way back up Korra’s body, straddling her legs so she could press a final kiss to her lips.

Korra huffed. “I think we _did_ leave the stove on.”

And wouldn’t you know it—they had.

 

* * *

 

Dating Korra was the best.

They held hands, went on double dates with Opal and Bolin (and Mako), kissed whenever and wherever, spent the night at each other’s apartments at least six times a week, and Asami reveled in being able to have sex with Korra at night, and wake up in the morning and have sex with her _again_. And _sometimes_ , they’d have post-coital coffee mug cereal. They’d really taken to eating breakfast foods naked on the couch.

They were in love, too, which was also great.

Some restless nights, Asami would watch Korra sleep, and wonder how she’d managed to deny herself the pleasures of being in love for as long as she had. Korra was still her best friend—the person she could have endless amounts of fun with, but she was also her partner, and her lover, and she was so _good_ at all three. And Asami worried sometimes that she couldn’t live up to the kind of support system that Korra offered, but sometimes Korra had night terrors, which she’d never known before, but she’d always soothe her back to sleep. Other times, Korra would shut off, or get frustrated with herself, but Asami always held her hand and calmed her down.

They were there for each other, and even though sometimes Korra asked her to tweeze weird hairs from her chin or her neck, and Asami asked Korra to rub her feet after twelve hours in unbreathable shoes—she couldn’t have been happier.

And that was something that never faded, even decades down the line.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](https://bazaarwords.tumblr.com/) if this didn't scare you off.


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